


Ten Things

by DarkEyedDreamer



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cute thing, Fluff, I don't know what else to tag, Lists, M/M, No Smut, SO MUCH FLUFF, Teenagers, Underage Drinking, if you're american, worried Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkEyedDreamer/pseuds/DarkEyedDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is about to graduate high school and he’s still never done anything exceptional or fun. At the risk of being “late” when he goes to college, he enlists in the help of his college-neighbor Phil to teach him a few things about making the most of his teenage years. (My first fic for the Phandom Big Bang)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Things

The last year of primary school is entirely overrated.

Dan remembered the exact moment he came to the realization. It had been the third week of school, aimlessly staring at a wall while his teacher went on and on about something he'd never need to know in the real world no matter how many times she insisted that he would. It was in that moment he came to the realization that would mark him for the rest of his foreseeable days. Plague him in the back of his mind and keep him up at four in the morning. You wait three years of primary school to rule the school, relax, take easy classes, and enjoy the experience- only to realize that you still have to apply to college, maintain decent enough grades to get in and not have to live with your parents than any longer than necessary, and still wake up 5 days a week at 5 in the morning.

Upon discovering this, Dan realized he'd spent years waiting for this special climax in his school days that wasn't going to come. There weren't going to be any special moments, any movie scenes. The fact of the matter was, Dan Howell had spent his last three years wasting them, and he was now running out of time. If he wanted to go to university with enough memories and skills under his belt to not have to play catch-up for the rest of his life, he was going to have to hurry up and make them, or he was going to be the one kid in all of his uni without any primary school stories to brag about to other people when they met. Sure, he could always make something up, but Dan wasn't a very good liar and he knew everyone would see right through him. No, he needed ideas. He needed a spark of light. He needed rebellion.

He needed Phil Lester.

The thought hit him as he trudged home from school, three days into his epiphany and the following existential crisis it brought with it. Phil Lester, the boy who he'd spent most of his secondary school years attempting to be like. The one who left for university a few years back with stories to spare despite him seeming like nothing but an innocent sunflower. The one who was currently staying at home right now while he was on summer holiday. Right next door to Dan with what had to be the secrets to all of mankind itself (or Dan's shallow version of mankind. Primary school.)

It was for that reason that Dan found himself knocking on Phil's door for the first time since the older boy had come home. Even before Phil had left, they hadn't been all that close. Not since Phil was a year twelve, and Dan was still just a dumb secondary school kid who looked at him like he hung the stars one by one. Before that, they spent plenty of time together. He was Dan's best (and let's be honest, only) friend. They played Sonic together and Phil actually treated him like he was a person rather than a child who needed to be constantly told what to do and what was bad for him. He just let him figure it out himself, and didn't try to push him around, which probably could have accounted for the fixation he had with the older boy. Well, that and the fact he heavily found himself staring at the bluest pair of eyes he'd ever seen and a smile that shone brighter than the stars Dan thought he hung.

But around that time Dan had realized how odd it was to always be following around the older boy, and that Phil had better things to do than talk to a younger kid who had no idea what life even was while Phil was readily preparing himself for it. Their odd friendship had ended abruptly, and neither seemed outwardly too disappointed with the change, even if Dan used to wonder when he was alone in his room what happened to the boy who had hung the stars.

Phil answered the door within a minute, and Dan assumed he must have been close by, because from what he remembered Phil wasn't one to be running to get the door. But then again, maybe that had changed. At first glance it seemed that everything else about him certainly had. His hair had darkened to an ebony black that Dan could swear was dyed- but he knew wasn't, and his eyes were no longer framed with glasses- but they were still so blue. His plaid shirts seemed to have been traded for what currently was a graphic t-shirt with a laser cat on it. Dan smiled at the fact that this boy was the same one who had been studying English Language and Linguistics for the last four years. Well, technically three. Not that Dan had been counting... nor was it from the way he remembered seeing glimpses of the raven haired male in the mornings before the sun even had a chance to rise, back when Dan was just barely a teenager and beginning to have to wake up earlier to make it to classes on time.

Phil seemed to recognize him without needing any help on Dan's part, which was good because the brunet in question was suddenly feeling a little weak in the knees all of a sudden and didn't think he was up to trying to explain who he was. Dan had thought his neighbor was cute before the blue eyed male went to university but dear God, had time aged him well. He'd grown into himself more, aired more confidence and a brighter smile which Dan was happy to see. In summary, he was even more attractive now. To the point where for a moment, the brunet had forgotten exactly what he was here for.

He was reminded when he was hit with another bright smile that seemed too familiar for the not-even-distant-friend. "Hi Dan!" He'd beamed like they'd spoken just days before. "What a nice surprise, do you want to come in?"

Dan nodded, a small smile of his own appearing on his face as he walked in albeit still a little shakily. Had he known Phil was so damn perfect looking now, he might have rethought his entire plan. It was going to be hard enough to make memories without the distraction of a very captivating neighbor helping him along for the entire thing. What was he even thinking? This was a terrible idea. He should probably go before he made a complete idiot of himself... or even more of one because he was right now standing in his neighbors house staring at him for just a little too long without speaking. He couldn't even remember what he'd come to say, really. The words were there, practiced on the walk home. He had logic and well thought out arguments about why he should help, he even had a begging routine all planned out in case that hadn't worked. But damn if he could remember any of that. No wonder he didn't have any good memories of his time in school, he was so painfully awkward.

If he noticed the staring, Phil thankfully decided not to say anything about it. "So, what are you doing here?" He asked instead, his tone not judgmental more than curious, tilting his head to the side in a totally-not-cute kind of way.

"I need your help." Dan replied before his brain could talk his mouth out of it because this was still such a bad idea. Once the words had come out though, Dan knew it was too late to turn back. He was going to ask Phil to help him make memories he could be proud of in university.

"My help?" Phil echoed the words like they seemed foreign to his ears. His curiosity though, had been sparked. Dan could tell that much by one look at the limpid blue eyes.

So, Dan confessed everything. He confessed about how boring his life had been until this point. He confessed about how all his friends (the ones he managed to keep at least) were so far ahead of him in memories and how he felt so left out on the entirety of it all. He confessed about his fear of going to uni without good stories to tell. He didn't even notice he was ranting, but when he looked up from where his eyes had traveled to his untied shoe laces, Phil was looking at him with an odd mix of determination and understanding which had to be a good sign. He hoped.

"So, will you help me?" The words came out squeaked, not at all like Dan intended, and it sounded much like he was going through puberty again, which was a frightening thought. Those were some memories he definitely didn't want to take with him when he got out of this town. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Phil didn't seem to hesitate before nodding, smiling happily. "I'd love to."

-

The next afternoon, when Dan was on his way home from school (walking because even if it was cold as hell he preferred it to the smell and noise of the other teenagers who rode the bus) he thought about talking to Phil again. The older boy hadn't given much of an indication of what he was going to do to help Dan with his problem, just a small smile and a look in his eyes that made it all too obvious to Dan that the older boy was thinking up something incredible. Or at least, he hoped so because he didn't have any good thoughts in his head other than cliché boring ones like parties, and those wouldn't make for a good story at any point past primary school. You can't tell the same stories everyone else has already told, it makes you seem boring even if the things you did were amazing in the moment.

No, he needed to do something that would make people laugh and grin, and remember his name if it came up in conversation. "Oh, Dan Howell? Yeah I heard he-" what? Went to a party in secondary school and got drunk? No. No one was going to remember that because it was something it seemed everyone in times like this was already used to. He needed to do something else, something exciting and mind altering. He just hoped he wasn't putting too much expectations on Phil. He was, after all, the boy who hung the stars. Giving Dan some good memories to bring to whatever University decided to take him shouldn't be all that difficult. He just wanted something that would make people remember him.

As if the older boy could hear his thoughts, he stepped outside onto the porch, gesturing his hand towards Dan as if the brunet hadn't already seen him. Hadn't already been watching the door in case the raven-haired male showed up. He was nervous, after all. You couldn't blame him, though. His entire future (or at least the social part of it) was riding on Phil's idea. He decided that was clearly why he was so excited when he walked up the stairs towards the older males house.

"So I found a solution." He replied with a small smile, looking thoroughly proud of himself as he held out two folded up pieces of paper for Dan to take.

It was a list, he realized upon closer inspection. A numbered list, each item on it being no more than a sentence or two long. Dan didn't read through it at first, flipping over to the second page to see how many there really were and stopping momentarily when he realized- holy hell, fifty? He looked up at Phil with a raised eyebrow and met eyes with a sheepish (yet still unnaturally bright) smile. He'd come up with fifty memories Dan could do while the teenager couldn't even think of one? Damn, what kind of stories did Phil have to tell?

"You aren't going to have to do them all, that would kind of be over-the-top. I thought you could choose your favorite ten." He commented with a small shrug.

Dan nodded his head, a smile appearing on his face as he thought over the words. Ten things. Ten overly-amazing and creative memories that Dan would be able to have going to university. All thanks to Phil. "And you're going to help me with them?" He asked curiously, finding himself not wanting to do it alone.

Phil nodded his head, without needing to even think the question over, like he'd already been expecting it. "You can count on it."

-

"Like this?" Dan asked, tilting his head to the side as he tried strumming over the strings. The noise that came out sounded much less like a dying cat than the last few, but still didn't quite sound like music.

Currently, the two were attempting Dan's first choice, although number three on the list itself. He thought it would be simple to start off with something easy before things got more exciting and therefore more difficult to do. Which was why when he read it, printed out so nicely on the page in handwriting that was definitely more legible than his own, "Number 6; Learn a skill that you don't need to know at all. Not for your future, not for your jobs. Nothing more than a party trick. Learn it because you want to, not because you're pressured to." He'd known it was a good start. Now, he was slightly regretting it because learning how to play an instrument was going to be the death of him, and he wasn't going to have to make any memories because he would be dead so it would be a waste of time. Which was only a little bit of an over dramatization because he was about a minute away from making a noise that sounded just as dying and annoyed as his guitar was sounding.

Phil nodded his head. "Yeah, that's the G-chord. Just watch the way you're holding your fingers, you're going to cut yourself if they slide too far." He warned, and that definitely made Dan a little nervous, he was a klutz after all. If anyone could find a way to maim themselves playing guitar it would be him.

"My fingers hurt." He commented, wondering if he was somehow holding them wrong. He didn't know how he would manage that, nor why Phil wouldn't have pointed it out by now because he thought it would be common courtesy if someone was about to cut their finger on a guitar string, but he honestly wouldn't really be all that surprised that he'd managed it.

"Yeah, the first few times you play it they'll hurt. Eventually the pads of your fingers will get thicker and you won't feel it." He replied, somewhat attempting to be soothing, Dan guessed. Dan wondered if Phil realized he wasn't all that good at comforting people in times as simple as this.

For a moment, he thought back to a time where Phil seemed to have it his goal to make sure Dan was comforted and happy. As a barely teen, the brunet seemed to manage to have some problem going on with him every week, from existential crisis's to procrastination, to bullies at school; and every time he came to Phil with worn eyes and a tired smile the older boy would immediately be there to pick up any pieces of himself that might have dropped along the way. He guessed Phil was just better at consoling someone when there was an actual problem other than the brunet's own frustrations at an inability to play this stupid guitar- which wasn't really stupid and he knew he was just taking out his annoyances on it, but this wasn't even fair anymore.

Nonetheless and despite the growing aggravation growing inside of him, he nodded his head. He would put some trust into the raven haired male, after all it seemed to work when he first came to Phil with these ideas and countless more times in the past. He was making some memories, and this would be a physical form of that. If he actually learned to play, he could show people. Guitars were much easier to carry around than pianos, and also took up a lot less space in a dorm room.

Dan let out a small swear when his finger slipped for the umpteenth time, the guitar making a noise that sounded like a wounded animal. He frowned, looking at Phil and exposing for a moment his slight frustration. The older male seemed more amused with the situation than Dan would have liked, and he had to physically stop himself from pouting because pouting was childish and he was trying to be less childish, that was pretty much half of the point of all this.

Without saying a word, Phil moved so he was sitting behind him, legs resting on either side of him and in the process making it so as Dan was sitting with his back just barely touching Phil's chest. Before the younger of the two could even think about asking what he was doing, two arms snaked their way around him as Phil pressed his hand over Dan's own, moving his fingers to the correct spots over Dan's. It hit him all at once that he was so close that the brunet could smell his aftershave, faintly. It smelled like something you'd find at those expensive places for forty dollars a bottle, but it also smelled comforting and familiar, and Dan couldn't help but think it probably wasn't as expensive as he thought because the Phil he knew before wasn't into big spending on pretty much useless things and he supposed Uni Phil probably wasn't either. Not that he would know, it wasn't like they kept in contact with each other after their parting of ways. Which Dan supposed probably shouldn't have made him feel so bad. It wasn't like it wasn't also Phil's idea. It had been a mutual agreement, albeit a silent one. So it wasn't his fault.

"Here, more like this." He offered softly, and Dan nearly shuddered at the sound of Phil's breath in his ear. But that was definitely not what he was supposed to be focusing on, so he looked down to what Phil's hands were doing as he moved his fingers to the next chord of their chosen song (The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance because it had seemed like an easy place to begin with, the guitar was pretty mellow to start off). Phil wrapped his free hand over the one Dan had been using to strum, bringing it down to make a sound which was much more melodious than the ones Dan had been making on his own.

He couldn't have stopped the proud expression that washed over his face if he had tried. It was just a chord, and deep down he knew he shouldn't be that proud over a simple chord (one that Phil helped him with, no less) but he couldn't help it. Phil must have noticed the bright grin that had appeared on his face because a laugh, soft and pleased, sounded from behind him.

"See? Think you can do that on your own?" Phil asked. Before Dan could answer, Phil had already moved his hands away and Dan was left feeling so much colder than he thought he would be.

Phil didn't move too far, though, and instead rested his hands at his sides, palms pressing into the floor. It took Dan a good moment or two to realize he was waiting for Dan to show him. His eyes fell down to the guitar strings for a few moments, trying to think of what Phil had done differently to make the guitar actually sound like music and not a death screech. Keeping it in mind, the next strum came out, sounding beautiful even to Dan's self-judgmental ears.

"There you go!" Phil praised from behind him, still much too close to be normal, not that Dan would ever complain because a moment later Phil was hugging him from behind and it was weird and awkward, definitely not something Dan was used to, but the brunet couldn't help but think of how nicely they fit together even with all that. A small part of him declared he would be happy to get used to it.

He moved his head back, resting it on Phil's shoulder so he could better see the older male, and oh wow. When Phil looked down at him Dan could see all the colors shining in his eyes. They weren't that limpid blue, like he'd thought before. They were blue like a brilliant morning sky, and green like miles and miles of grassy fields, and even the yellow of the sun, and they all but shone at a single glance. If you believed in a higher power, it was like when he was created someone sprinkled stain glass and the very earth into the color of his eyes. It momentarily took Dan's breath away. He hadn't remembered that about Phil. Had he ever been this close to his friend before? Not that he could remember, and some part of him nagged at him, telling him he definitely would have remembered this happening before. If there was a higher power, Dan would have to thank him himself for giving Phil such pretty eyes.

He gave him a small smile when he finally tore his gaze away from the eyes so easy to get lost in. "Well it's easily decided that I'll never be playing in Times Square but this was fun. Really." He commented, the unsaid 'thanks' clear in his tone.

"Well we're not done yet. You've still got nine more memories to get to." Phil replied with a small grin, and Dan couldn't help but be in awe with how beautiful that smile really was. It was free and regretless. He wanted to see more of it. "Most of them a lot more fun than this."

"Are there any that you're hoping I choose?" Dan asked, knowing that if Phil wrote fifty of them and they were only doing ten, that meant there would be a lot of memories that would never get to happen.

"A few of them, but I'm biased just because I like the memories I got doing them." Phil responded, and Dan could actually hear the nostalgia in the older man's voice, even if he hadn't been able to see it in his eyes.

"Could you tell me which ones worked well for you, just so I don't waste my time on ones that won't go very well?" He asked curiously. He should move his head off Phil's shoulder, but he found himself at an utter lack of will to do so, and since the older male hadn't yet complained he decided it was probably okay.

Phil shook his head, and Dan finally moved his head because if he hadn't then Phil's chin very likely would have hit him in the face. "No, because things backfiring are pretty good stories too." He commented, stifling a clear laugh. "They're more relatable anyway."

"Well, then I guess I'll just have to figure it out." 

-

Become a stereotype. Buy a record player and combat boots. Wear all black. Dye your hair bright blue and get your ear pierced three times. Don't care when people laugh at you.

Those were the words printed on the sheet that had caused... this. Dan looked himself over in Phil's full length mirror (the other male had happily taken him to the store when Dan had told him the next item he'd chosen), looking at his new look with a mixture of awe and slight horror. He almost looked like an entirely different person. The good twin, he thought with amusement. Because what he was wearing right now definitely couldn't be worn by the evil twin. Unless an evil twin could rock a pastel pink sweater with a heart on it and matching pink hair chalk highlights- which the cashier had assured would wash out in three washes at most. His jeans were still skinny jeans because any other pair of jeans made him feel uncomfortable with all the space next to his ankles, but they were white and in any other situation Dan wouldn't be caught dead in them. They were too bright. But he had to admit, they were oddly cute.

From his position staring at the temporary version of him in the mirror he could easily see Phil when he stepped into the room, even if the older male hadn't made a sound. He probably had been trying to scare him, but when he caught eyes with the brunet in the mirror he stopped trying to be so silent, as if he'd known his cover was blown. Instead, he gave Dan a cheerful grin as he approached, one hand behind his back. Clearly hiding something, but Dan would let it go because if he actually asked, Phil would only keep it hidden for longer. Apparently, nothing had actually changed about him since high school. Which was actually a little reassuring. Time hadn't ruined something as wonderful as Phil, but rather preserved it and kept it going- and Phil was happy like that.

He was just about to relent and ask what was hidden when Phil placed it on his head. He was still staring at himself in the mirror, but he didn't need to look to understand that Phil had literally just put a bow on his head. An honest-to-God bow. It was purple, and whatever fabric it was made of was smooth. He actually looked kind of... adorable. He grinned at his own reflection in the mirror for a few moments, completely dumbstruck by the thought. That idea hadn't come to his mind for a long time. He'd never actually thought he was particularly attractive, but right now he had to admit he did look quite nice, even if that fact made his cheeks turn slightly red from embarrassment. He looked like the type of person who would run a pastel blog on Tumblr. The ones with all the pretty girls and unicorns and things. Which was odd and definitely not the normal thing for him, but it wasn't bad.

He was then plagued by a second thought. Well, he was so going to get teased today... but hell he didn't think he'd actually mind. He just wanted to dance around in this outfit, and for a moment was thoroughly convinced that the outfit had some sort of magical effect on his actual personality... or something like that. It didn't actually matter, he wasn't going to be dancing even if someone paid him. Well, not in the hallways at least. Maybe when he got home. Dancing around in your bedroom always seemed fun in the movies. Usually it was to some shitty pop song that was overplayed on the radio, but something about his outfit almost made it seem like that would be exactly what he would listen to, so if he was going to become a stereotype he guessed he might as well commit. Besides, life was too short to deny that pop songs we catchy, even if they lost their charm when played on the radio a hundred times a day. Seriously, the only time Dan wanted to hear a song a hundred times in a row it was because he'd found a new obsession and was attempting to see how many times he could play it before it lost it's ability to give him goosebumps and make him shudder at it's actual beauty. It usually didn't. At all.

"You look nice." Phil commented with a small smile, and Dan definitely didn't catch the way Phil's eyes looked him over- twice. It was just because of the outfit, he was being silly.

But that didn't stop him from smiling widely at the words and his cheeks to inevitably redden further by their own accord. So what, it was good to hear that you looked nice in any occasion. The fact that it came from his really hot neighbor only made it that much better, but that didn't mean anything. No, not at all. And the blush on Dan's cheeks? Entirely natural effect of this. He'd have blushed if it had been anyone. The fact that he used to undeniably have a crush on the older boy didn't mean anything. He was over that. It was just a little kid thing.

"Thanks. Think the kids at school will agree?" He laughed.

Phil shrugged, and Dan understood that it meant 'don't get your hopes up.' "Who cares what they think, Dan?" He asked in turn, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Dan laughed softly. "You know, it's not right to answer a question with another question." He replied, turning away from the mirror so he could better look at himself and adjust the bow so it moved from the top of his head off to the side a bit. If he was going to wear it he didn't want to look like Cindy Luo Who.

"Does that make me a rebel then?" Phil asked in mild amusement, tilting his head to the side as if he was trying to picture himself being known as a rebel. In school he used to be the quiet kid, and that was half the reason Dan was so surprised by how many stories he had to tell.

"Yes it does, I think you should wear my leather shirt and walk around in that if I have to wear pink hair chalk." Dan countered with a quick half smile. He didn't add the fact that Phil would probably look great in it. That was pushing it.

The raven haired male laughed, and the sound came out like music. "Maybe next time around." He replied, and it didn't take much to know that meant, 'not in this life' which was pretty much what the brunet had been expecting anyway.

He shrugged in response. "I have about three washes to convince you. I can be a pretty persuasive person sometimes." He informed his friend with a small grin. "I convinced you to help me after all. And I convinced you to walk me to school..."

Phil blinked in surprise. "Wait when did you do that?" He asked confusedly before it dawned on him what Dan was trying to do. He laughed quietly. "Oh! Yeah, I guess I'll walk you."

Dan grinned. "I'm one step closer to making you wear the shirt." He informed the other male with a small smile on his face that already declared his victory.

Phil smiled. "Maybe next time around." He repeated with a small laugh.

-

School went about as well as he thought it would. After first period, he'd decided to start trying to keep track of all the names people called him, and he basically in the span of an hour had gotten so many insults that he was really thinking about hiding in the bathrooms to wait it out until the bell rang and he could go home and try to wash the chalk out a week early. The funny thing was that he knew this would happen. The brunet's relationship with the rest of the school (minus a small, select group of vague friends he didn't really talk to outside of school) was usually bad as it was, with him being the kid who talked like Winnie the Pooh in a room full of people who wanted to be thugs when they got older, and whose lives probably peaked at high school graduation. Some of them wouldn't even make it to that.

It only took until three hours into the school day for him to relent. He was sitting in the lunch room, sitting in the far corner by himself as he looked through the list that he'd been holding onto like a life support ever since it was given to him. Even still, it was only when someone- he was pretty sure it was an asshole named Sam who always loved to mess with his life for whatever reason- very loudly called him something entirely unpleasant from the other side of the room he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number Phil had given to him back on that first day when they'd re-met.

He answered on the second ring, which was a lot of trust considering Dan didn't think he'd called Phil yet so the number must have come up as unknown. "Hello?" Phil asked, and somehow Dan thought he voice sounded knowing. Not that he could prove it.

"I want to do number four. Like, right now." Dan informed his friend without bothering to give back a greeting. Right now he was sad and wanted Phil to fix things like he knew the male could. Was that so much to ask for? Probably.

Phil didn't miss a beat, and Dan thought he could hear a smile in his tone as he replied. "I'll be there in a little bit, alright Bear?" He asked, using the nickname that had been adapted for him since he'd moved to his current household and met the older boy next door. It was funny that Phil would call him that now. It brought with it an odd nostalgic feeling.

"Why do you call me bear?" A much smaller version of him asked, looking up at Phil with a craned neck, wishing he were taller because looking up all the time was never really any fun. 

"Because you're small and cuddly, and really energetic even though you don't like exercise." 

"Bears aren't cuddly Phil!"

"You are. It's the closest I'll ever come to hugging a real bear."

"Yeah, I'll be waiting out front." He nodded his head, stuffing the paper into his pocket carefully as he hung up the phone. He spared no looks at the people who'd been making fun of him all day as he walked out of the lunch room with a confident smile on his face. He deserved to be happy. Those jerks shouldn't have the right to make him feel like crap for doing something so simple. It wasn't their place to tell him he couldn't wear a bow if he wanted to.

Ten minutes later when Phil met him at the front of the school, Dan had a smile back on his face. He just needed to be away from them, and the joy seemed to come back into his day. That, and the knowledge that Phil was coming over to meet him and do another list. So far, they'd been fun. Hell, the list in general was becoming a large memory with several small ones inside in it. Which was turning out to be pretty interesting. It'd be a fun story to tell. The time he did a list of memories so he wouldn't be behind in university like everyone else. He was sure that would be funny to tell a bunch of drunken idiots- him probably being just as drunk and stupid as the rest of them at the time.

"So, number four?" Phil grinned cheerfully as he approached, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets so as where his wrist looked somewhat broken but not quite. Dan had never seen anyone other than the male in front of him do that before, so it must have been one of the traits that was solely Phil.

Dan nodded his head. Number four. Skip a day of school. Hide in a place no one would ever think to look for you, or in plain sight. Enjoy the day and don't worry about what you're missing. That was what he needed right now, dressed like a fairy or a cupid on Valentine's day. He needed a place where he could enjoy his new found punk goes pink outfit without thinking of how everything was looking at him like he'd grown a second head. He actually quite liked the outfit, and he wanted to be able to appreciate it fully before the chalk washed down the shower drain and the pink sweater was once again traded in for his traditional black I-Hate-The-World tee shirts. Which he had to admit, he liked much better at the moment. But that wasn't the point of this. The point of this was very different, actually. It was to embrace being someone different. Be someone that you might have wanted to be if times were different. At least, he thought that was the point of this. Phil never really explained, but Dan guessed explanations didn't much matter since he'd chosen it anyway. Maybe it didn't have some deep meaning. Maybe it was just to see what would happen. He tended to overthink everything so he couldn't really be sure.

They ended up walking to a place not far from their houses. Dan didn't know how he ended up like this, but some time between Phil declaring 'I have the perfect spot' and now, his bow had been swapped out for a flower crown (the most cliche of all the Tumblr accessories, but it was oddly pretty in a way so Dan hasn't bothered attempting to complain about it) and Phil had gotten a wooden sword. All from Phil's room, by the way. Which meant Phil just had a flower crown and a loose sword laying around. Dan had only been lightly swatted with the sword when he asked Phil if that was a fetish of his or something. He didn't regret it in the least, especially at the beet red face he'd received for his troubles and the small, mortified sounding shout of his name.

One of the places that the twelve year old kids who had something to prove (him being one of them, back in the day) would go to get drunk at night. In the daytime, it was completely deserted save for a few empty beer bottles that Dan now thought someone should really pick up. Maybe they should put a garbage can out here, everyone knew they wouldn't be able to stop the kids from drinking, so they might as well try to keep kids from cutting their feet on broken glass. No need for more A&E visits than the ones they already got for alcohol poisoning- there had been two this month that Dan knew of, and someone really needed to teach those kids how to drink in moderation because someone was going to die by the end of the year at this rate and he would prefer that to not happen.

They took the route away from the glass, and Dan manage to focus on the scenery in a more positive light when the smell of stale beer wasn't invading his nostrils. There weren't any trails back here, but Phil led the way like he had a perfect location in mind, so Dan didn't bother to try to question him. From what he remembered, there wasn't much out here but trees and a few small clearings, but with the way Phil was looking you'd think there was a complete recreation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry back here. Which, now that he thought about it, they should so make. Just for aesthetic purposes.

When they got to the place Phil seemed to be looking for- which was, like Dan had thought, nothing more than a small clearing- they stopped. "We're going to play a game." Phil declared with a goofy grin, holding out his sword at Dan and taking stance like he was actually getting ready for a fight.

And just like that, it all made sense and Dan was grinning a little too wide. He remembered this spot; he remembered the flower crown and sword too except back in those days the roles were usually reversed because Dan had refused to let Phil have a sword when all he got was a crown. So the raven haired male happily allowed himself to be the princess, fairy, or whatever else he managed to come up with at the time and Dan to be whatever the game called for at the time. Sometimes he was a knight, a prince, a dragon slayer, or an adventurer. In either case, an eight year old Dan was always excited for days when Phil asked if he wanted to play in the forest. He couldn't believe that he didn't connect the two things sooner, honestly. The entirety of those days seemed to have slipped his mind for a while. Thinking of all the adventures they had back then, he was happy that Phil was there to remind him.

Dan laughed. "Alright. I'm up for a game." He decided. He didn't know what kind of game Phil was offering this time, but he was certain it was something that he'd not done since they were both a lot younger with their heads further in the clouds than they seemed to be right now.

"I'm playing the pirate and you can be..." Phil paused dramatically, looking Dan up and down a few times in a way that definitely seemed like he was being checked out before deciding. "A woodland princess."

"Oh shut up!" Dan declared through the sound of giggling (and yes, it was definitely giggling, something like that couldn't be called a simple laugh) that he thought was Phil's, but also could have been his own. Of course he was the princess this time. He was the one in the crown after all.

"The pirate has to try to catch the princess before the princess can escape to the castle- which is anything out of sight." Phil declared with a small grin.

"So this is basically tag with a pointed object that could potentially kill me? Phil I don't think I trust you with that." Dan replied, although he was already taking a step away from his pirate foe.

"I have to have it, I'm a pirate." Phil reasoned, counting down on his fingers. When it hit three, Dan bolted without warning, not turning around to see if Phil was following yet. He knew he would. That was the game. Unless Phil planned to leave him out there or something, but he doubted that highly. If so, he would have done it back when Dan was eight.

Considering he was probably in the worst shape out of everyone he'd ever met, Dan thought he did pretty good at fleeing from the 'pirate' chasing after him. He must have pulled out some form of childish energy he hadn't used in years- or Phil was just as out of shape as he was. In either case he was pretty sure that if his PE teacher could see him now, he'd have passed the class with a lot more than a 'D,' and he was also pretty sure that the reason he'd even managed to get the 'D' was just because he didn't want to have the brunet for another year. Which was fair considering they both hated each other so it was pretty mutual. He wondered what the man would have said if he realized all it took to make his student run was to make up a slightly more elaborate game of tag and chase him with a wooden sword. Honestly, he was pretty sure he might have tried it, and it would have made for an awkward gym class that could have been a story all on it's own. Much more interesting than the fact his gym teacher had been fired the year after for grabbing a girls thigh.

"I'm going to catch you." Phil's voice sounded behind him just as Dan made a sharp turn into the trees, attempting to jump over a small creek and landing directly into the mud instead. Oh right, he still wasn't very good at anything physical. He seemed to be forgetting that. He slipped a little, but it didn't take much for him to once again get further ahead of his competitor. 

"I- should have- done more- in gym." Was the only reply Dan had for Phil, his words broken and panted from lack of oxygen and the pounding in his chest. Was running this hard as a child because he definitely didn't remember it being this bad, and frankly he needed to ask little him how he did it. "I- am not- prepared- for this!"

"Well then give up pixie!"

"I thought I was a princess?"

"Same thing!"

Phil did end up catching up with him, some time after Dan decided that hiding a little early would be a good idea but before he realized Phil was watching him so hiding would be near impossible. He'd just managed to 'disappear' into a clump of trees before a strong arm had wrapped itself around his waist. The surprise had made him let out an extremely indigent noise that he would deny ever making no matter how many times Phil told him otherwise. Because Dan Howell didn't squeak. That just didn't happen.

Whatever noise he made (which again, wasn't a squeak mind you) caused Phil to start laughing, the sound coming out slightly breathless. At least Phil was out of shape too, even if not to the extent Dan seemed to be. If he didn't know better, he would have told himself he should start working out. Not like he was actually going to do that though. He had much more important things to do, like playing video games and making sure he had a proper amount of beauty sleep even though he didn't go to bed until most people were beginning to wake up.

Phil's head fell forward lightly, resting on Dan's shoulder as he took a few breaths, most likely trying to get his heart rate down so it no longer sounded like Sonic the Hedgehog was running laps in his chest. That was what Dan was doing, at least. "I vote for a new game." Dan declared when he trusted his voice to say it without running out of air mid-sentence.

"That means I win." Phil replied lazily, sounding just tired enough to have run a marathon. Not that this was a marathon, because if Dan had run one of those he would actually be dead right now. As it was he could feel his heartbeats in his ears, he didn't want to think if he had to run forty-two kilometers. Give or take.

"I think I can accept that." Dan agreed, only because if he said any different that meant he was basically challenging Phil to a rematch and he didn't think he wanted to cough up a lung today. Or any day, really. Because who wanted to cough up a lung?

Phil seemed content with the answer and Dan thanked whatever god there might be for that. "How do people do this?" Phil asked, finally bringing himself to raise his head off his friend's shoulder with a disbelieving look written on his face.

"Some people actually like to be in shape, Phil." Came the sarcastic reply, which should have been expected. It wasn't hard to see that neither of them were those people. Or maybe they were, and laziness just got in the way of that. In either case, Dan was content with the way things were when he didn't feel like his legs were about to fall off.

"They're insane. It's not worth it." Phil informed him dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like he was actually trying to keep it from thudding out of his chest like in the cartoons. He somehow doubted it would be as funny this time.

"Maybe we should just sit down for a bit." Dan suggested, already moving to follow his own plan before the words were fully out of his mouth. Phil seemed to agree, because he sat down beside him without much complaint.

They sat shoulder to shoulder for a while, with Dan leaning his head back against the tree behind him even though he could actually feel the wood getting into his hair. He would have to brush that out before they did anything else- if they were planning on doing anything else after this. Right now, he felt pretty happy with the idea of sitting like this forever. Both of their breathing had returned to a normal rate, yet they remained content resting with each other in silence, neither of them trusting themselves not to lose their breath in the middle of a sentence if they actually did try to talk.

That was, until a thought occurred to Dan which made him turn his attention to Phil with slight worry. "You do know how to get home from here, right?" He asked with slightly wide eyes.

Phil nodded his head with the same confidence he had been wearing when he'd led Dan back here in the first place, but his companion didn't think it would be a very safe bet to trust him. Not that he had a choice in the matter. He had no idea which way they'd come from. It all looked like trees to him, and occasionally a broken bottle or two. He didn't think he would be able to find his way back with that. 

"That way." Phil pointed after looking around for a moment. Dan didn't have much to go on other than that, so 'that way' it was. Even despite how terribly non-reassuring that sounded to him.

They must have looked like quite a sight when they emerged from the trees and into what was coming close to a setting sun. Dan with a flower crown haphazardly resting on his head and Phil with a wooden sword at his side. Both of them were covered in mud and twigs, with hair mussed up from the wind and running they'd done. They probably looked like they'd been doing something much more perverse and overall kinky than what had actually transpired. Had Dan actually cared, he probably would have tried to fix at least the more superficial problems but by this point they'd been walking 'this way' for at least an hour (probably doing many circles and laps around the same cluster of trees before they managed to escape its confines) and he was too busy looking around for any soft place to fall asleep on for the next four years to actually care about what was happening around him. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but bed.

Too bad he had no idea where they were now that they'd actually gotten out from their wooded prison cell. Which, Dan didn't think was very fair. What part of this was fair? Nature was playing a cruel sick joke that Dan for one didn't want to be apart of if his groan signaled anything of the sort. Phil didn't seem any more pleased, but his expression of such was much less vocal than his companion and fellow adventurer.

"We're going to die before we find our way back to the house, aren't we?" Dan asked with a pained expression on his face. This was definitely not the way he wanted to die. He didn't know how exactly he'd been planning on dying but this was not it.

"Of course we're not going to die." Phil replied, but he didn't sound too convinced himself so it did nothing to reassure his friend. It honestly just even more led to the conclusion that they weren't, in fact, going to make it home.

Dan didn't remember much about the car other than it was red, and it was extremely shiny considering the sun was no longer directly above their heads. He didn't remember it driving up to them, but he did remember it stopping. A woman who couldn't have been more than thirty gave them a look of bewilderment, but Dan could see the genuine concern in her eyes. Honestly, for a few seconds in time he thought she was crazy. He knew for a fact he wouldn't have stopped the car for two teenage boys covered in dirt and sap, not to mention one of them by this point looked dressed like they were going to a Free Love festival with the flower crown and white jeans and the other holding a wooden sword in his hand. Maybe she was a serial killer, because that was the only way Dan could understand someone willingly offering those two odd looking boys a ride to their house.

The truth was much more mundane than serial killer, and for a moment the brunet was almost disappointed. Not that he wanted to be in a car with a homicidal maniac but it would have been an interesting plot twist to the story. 'I started off just skipping school, hanging out in the woods, and then BAM I was in a car with a murderer.' How amazing of a story would that be if he actually managed to see it through without ending up dead? Although lets be honest for a moment, had she really been a killer he would have completely missed that and ended up in a ditch somewhere before it even registered to him that something was amiss. He wasn't the best at picking up subtle hints when it came to things like that. Or very blunt hints either, actually. He was the type of person in a horror movie that asked what the killer was doing with a knife. But to also be fair, Phil was the type of person that was used as a plot device and would have been killed way before anyone even knew there was a killer. Which wasn't very equitable the more he thought about, but it was the cold hard truth.

It turned out that surprisingly, the woman with the bob haircut and slender build wasn't a serial killer. She was a mother, and she seemed to have that maternal instinct to protect anything under the age of 18- even if they were dressed with flowers and swords. Dan had to admit motherly was much more believable than serial killer anyway. This wasn't America, people didn't just randomly try to stab people all the time. No offense to the American's it just looked like they were having a very dangerous time over there and he was pretty sure most of them would agree.

When they finally managed to find their houses, Dan didn't think he'd ever been more relieved in his life. So relieved that he didn't mind when his mother scolded him for tracking mud onto her floor and for being out so late without calling, so relieved he didn't mind that dinner had been eaten without him, so relieved all he did was go to bed after shedding the traitorous clothes. 

He didn't know what the next item on the list was going to be, but it definitely wasn't going to be anywhere near those woods this time unless they were pulling a Hansel and Gretel and leaving breadcrumbs to get back- or a very long rope. He could count on that.

-

"We're going to go to jail, Phil."

"You're the one that chose this. There were plenty of other things on the list you could have went with."

"You were supposed to stop me, this was a stupid idea!" Dan whisper-yelled, looking around the darkened room in mild horror. He didn't know how he managed to make it so far without realizing this was a terrible idea, but it was too late now. Much too late.

The room in question was large, and from what he could see (also known as what wasn't covered by sports posters and pin up girls) the colors on the wall looked to be a dark green but Dan was sure when the light was on it probably looked a lot brighter. He had yet to hear any noises from inside the house, and that thankfully meant that no cars in the driveway actually meant no people in the house like he'd been hoping for. With his luck, he thought there would have been an entire party going on that they had somehow failed to notice. But from what he could tell, the only sound in the entire house was his heart going from thudding erratically to not beating at all. He almost felt like he was going to have a heart attack, but if he did he would have to explain to the EMT's why he was in someone's house without their knowledge, and he didn't want to explain to them that he'd been following up on a list item.

Item number nine, in fact. Get some petty revenge. Put salt in the sugar shaker, hide someone's school text book, steal one of each of their shoes and just hide them around their house. Nothing that could really harm someone, but something that could have the satisfaction of knowing you caused. Revenge is a memory, making it sneaky could even make it a good one.

Which was how he winded up at Sam's house in the dead of night searching for something to mess up. He didn't know why he even decided on doing this one, he didn't know what deep seeded annoyance made him want to break a law just for some petty revenge that wasn't even going to make a difference in the long run. But just the thought of annoyance Sam in any way was almost worth the possibility of being arrested. Almost. He didn't think his Winnie the Pooh accent would make him very popular in jail- at least not in a good way. Just like it didn't make him very popular in school. Huh, funny how similar the two were when it came down to it. He could almost picture all of the people from school in jail anyway. Now, including himself. Featuring Phil Lester.

"Just find something to mess up and get out of here." Phil replied, although he didn't sound nearly as worried as Dan did. How many times had Phil done something like this and got away with it? He was much too laid back for this to be his first attempt as well. He knew Phil was the quiet kid in school, was this how he got even with people? Rather than fight back he just got even with them by slowly unnerving them until they drove themselves crazy? Because this was genius, actually.

"What's the story you have to go along with this one?" Dan asked curiously as he sauntered over to the wooden dresser that was full of clothing, including the football jersey he wore every day despite the fact that it must be entirely too dirty right now for anyone to actually not notice. Even popular kids couldn't get away with poor hygiene, and this was definitely a case of that. Without a second thought (because he knew if he had one he'd have stopped himself out of worry of what was going to happen afterward) he began pouring itching powder along his underwear and definitely coating the jersey in the substance as well.

"Once a kid who will not be named asked me out for a joke and I hid all of his textbooks in classes he didn't even have so he didn't have them for the rest of the year. But since they were in school they were returned in the end so he didn't pay the fine." Phil replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders. For a moment Dan thought he could see a flash of hurt at the old memory, and he hoped the prank made him feel a little bit better because that guy sounded like a dick.

He opened his mouth to say so but as he did he heard the unmistakable noise of a car pulling into a driveway, and suddenly they were so screwed it didn't even matter. The slightly sorrowful look that Phil had been wearing was replaced with wide eyes that seemed to say exactly what Dan was thinking. They were so fucked. The brunet looked out the window just as the headlights turned off, and someone who was unmistakably Sam headed up the driveway towards the door. They were going to be arrested, or murdered. Was it even illegal to kill someone in your house? It would be pretty easy to say he thought the two guys who had broken into his room made him fear for his life, even if it was the two biggest weebs the UK had ever seen.

In true comedy movie fashion, Dan's first reaction was to go for the closet, especially considering he could hear the jerk in question moving around downstairs, no doubtedly coming for his room in a few minutes. But Phil must have already thought three steps ahead as to why that was a terrible plan because he opened the window and pulled his friend towards what looked to be his inevitable demise. Who jumped from a second story window? In the My Chemical Romance song that didn't go well, and if Dan knew his luck (which he apparently did considering he'd pretty much guessed they would be caught doing this) he would get a lot worse than a broken foot, and he didn't particularly want to get in a game of one upmanship with a song. Especially not over broken bones. What kind of moron would want that?

But, as it turned out Phil actually had a plan. One that required more physical effort than he was used to, but one he thought he could handle in the situation given the options. Sam's room had what Dan could only name as the stupid garden ladder thing people climbed up in romance movies and accidentally crashed down in comedies. Did they even have a name? Because he couldn't remember if they did. In either case, whatever it was called had saved his life as he and Phil both scurried down the white fence-like ladder and into the grass below. Dan took the moment to breathe a sigh of relief, a small smile appearing on his face because he'd actually just gotten away with that and he was actually extremely impressed with himself. 

Neither boy stuck around to see the aftermath of what they'd done, knowing that there was a good chance Sam would realize he hadn't left that window open and peek out to check. So before they had to explain to the police why they were outside his house, they slipped out into the shadows. This was the most stealth that Dan had ever experienced in his life, but he was grinning too widely to be worried about anything that was probably going to happen tomorrow. For right now he was actually having fun, and that was something he wasn't going to trade for the world.

The next day at school, Sam complained about his skin feeling like a thousand misquotes had bitten him. Dan didn't say a word. 

-

It was only fitting that with his procrastination skills he was only half finished with his list when his school was let out for the summer- especially considering his apparent dyer need to procrastinate until the last possible moment, even for things he wanted to do. After nearly being arrested (well, he could have been) he decided that he could stand to take a week or two before he decided on the next thing he wanted to do- one that was completely and totally legal because the day after he'd finished his little revenge stunt he spent a good majority of his time looking over his shoulder and expecting someone to leave a mysterious note in his locker saying 'I know what you did' like this was some kind of movie. Deciding things in the heat of the moment didn't seem to work out well enough in the long run, although it was good for the memories apparently because he knew he wasn't going to forget any of these.

It was still safe to say the following few weeks with Phil had been doing much more mundane things, which he thought both of them were probably a little relieved over. No matter how fun the list was, and how cool the memories were turning out to be, sometimes you didn't need all that. Some days, it was better to remember all the comfortable days spent lounging around the house in your pajamas, playing video games and watching terrible horror movies from a generation where the CGI was so bad it could have been non-existent. He wasn't going to lie, some of them still scared him even considering that.

Finals had damn near killed Dan when they came around, and he was grateful when he pulled ahead with nothing below a 'B-' to show for it. When graduation rolled past less than a week later (and it was all so fast Dan's head was spinning because a week ago he was a kid and now he was going to have to start thinking of universities and planning ahead for his future, and that thought was almost enough to send him into the world's largest existential crisis) his mom had given him a hug and told him that she was proud, and his younger brother called him a nerd (lovingly of course, the way brothers tend to do) and they'd all gone out to eat that night. For a little while, the list was the last thing on his mind.

That was, until the concert rolled around and Phil had surprised him with tickets. It was to see Muse, up front where the mosh pits and crowd surfing was just as present as the music, and Dan had hugged him for a full five minutes as he excitedly rambled on about how awesome this was going to be. Phil had just laughed at how much excitement he had been showing off, and told Dan that the concert was the twenty-second, which had only made the younger of them even more enthused.

It hadn't been Dan's first concert, far from it with all the festivals he'd been to in recent years, but when he realized that going to a concert was a key part of one of the items on the list, the brunet figured he might as well kill two birds with one stone. Have an amazing time at a concert for his favorite band and put another check mark on the list. All in all, it was sure to be a night that he hoped neither of them would forget. Concerts never were easy to forget though.

Number thirty-seven. Go see your favorite band in concert. Turn off your phone when you get there and don't turn it on again until you're leaving. Scream out all the lyrics to every song you know. Mosh pit, crowd surf. Live in the moment, you'll remember it later, I promise. 

Dan had turned off his cell phone the moment they'd gotten off the underground they'd taken to get to the show, shoving it into his pocket and minutely wishing (not for the first time) that he'd actually gotten a car. If he had the money for it, that would be spectacular, but he didn't and therefore getting places were going to remain difficult for a while longer. Not that it mattered in this moment, because they were a block away from a concert and nothing else could possibly matter right now.

Without his phone to distract him, took notice of things he usually didn't when going to a show. Like the fact that it was extremely easy to tell who was going to the show and who was going on about their day. It wasn't just the tee-shirts or the bright hair colors that made it easy either, it was something different. Something harder to place. Like a buzz of energy that was sending out in waves all around him, a general overview portraying the happiness that for this moment every person going to that show was feeling. It was almost peaceful, especially considering the place they were going to was going to be a lot more than peaceful. Unless loud music and pushing people counted as your form of peace. How had he not noticed that before?

Phil smiled at him, and it was in that moment Dan realized why it had been so important that he turn off his phone for this one. He was starting to see things he normally wouldn't, and that was the reason it was a memory worthy of making it on the list. Because it was going to be different. A whole new definition on what he thought of concerts. The things he didn't see while taking pictures and videos.

Which was a new experience. Half way through the show, and Dan was having the most fun of his life. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about this before. He didn't know what had changed. It felt like nothing had gone any different. But this was better, somehow. He'd lost Phil in the crowd a few minutes ago when a mosh pit had started and neither of them seemed in the mood to actually be in it, and while he looked for his friend he had to duck under a guys arm from where he was punching up into the air. Curse his extra height.

He could feel the bass chords in his chest, and it was sending an electrifying pattern along his skin that was giving him goosebumps all along his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment, and he could actually feel the music in his bones- in his blood, running through along his veins and down his chest bone and ribs. The thrumming cradling him and making each breath feel new and special and just great. It was indescribable, and it was his favorite part of concerts in that aspect. He almost felt a twinge of pity for anyone who'd never been able to go to a rock concert and feel this, because it was the best feeling in the world.

When he opened his eyes again he looked up at the nameless band (at least to Dan) that was preforming before Muse. They were good, he should probably have paid more attention to their name considering the backdrop they used didn't appear to say it anywhere. Which was pretty bad advertising if you asked him. He looked around, contemplating asking when he found just one more thing to add to the list of things he loved about concerts. The people who were all so diverse, all looking like they belonged here in the same way. He saw the more hardcore fans yelling along the words, their voices unable to be heard over the singer, but being able to see their mouths moving along so perfectly it was like they were the ones singing it. The fans who were non-obsessive and all loving, the ones who would have a new favorite band by the end of the month, just moved their bodies along in time to the music or waited for the band they had actually come to see, like Dan, focusing on the people and tune rather than the words because from this position and the singers vocals the words were hard to hear anyway.

They fell away to nothing for a few moments as set people scrambled to swap out the drum kit and the backdrop for Muse, and it was only around that time that Dan had a clear enough head to be worried about where Phil had gone. When there was nothing but his own thoughts, although he was well aware there was no such thing as silence here. No one was particularly yelling, with the music stopped there was no reason to. But each person talking at what would usually be a normal volume level had erupted into something that was still too loud to be considered anything below a yell. Had he really been focused on it, he would have realized that the noise was loud enough to give him a headache in a normal situation, but here it just seemed normal. Even quiet, considering the past three hours had been spent with much more noise than he thought could be repeated.

He was still looking for Phil when Muse came onstage, and he was beginning to worry. It hadn't been long, not really, but he didn't like the idea of not knowing where his friend was. He was just about to try crowd surfing to see if he saw the older male when a voice shouted out at him. "Dan!" He heard a familiar voice shout, and he turned to come face to face with Phil's grinning face as the final strums of 'Mercy' faded away, only to be replaced by loud cheers from the crowd that was almost deafening.

"There you are! I thought you ditched me you turnip." Dan declared, although the smile that had already appeared on his face explained that he really didn't hold any anger at the older boy. He knew how it was at a concert, once you were lost, you were absolutely lost.

Phil laughed, and Dan was too focused on the sound to realize the opening to the next song (which the brunet instantly recognized as 'Resistance') until the words had already began, in-sighting a hundred fans to sing along and even more to start dancing along to the music the best they could without bumping into the person next to them, which resulted it very limited dance moves to be used. One couple was even slow dancing, which made him laugh despite the fact that it was pretty cute.

He didn't know when he and Phil got so close, but if he had to guess someone must have pushed one of them. Probably by accident, considering no mosh pit had opened up to swallow them. But either way, they now stood inches apart, which was probably the only way he could make Phil hear him by this point with all the shouting of words that Dan had memorized the day the album came out. They were an important band to him, ever since he was just turning into a teenager. They were there with him when he was thirteen years old with something to prove to the world. They stuck around with him when he turned into an angry fifteen year old because he was just beginning to realize the world was a fucked up place and there was nothing he could do with it because he was just a kid. They stayed with him when he turned seventeen and realized that no matter how old he got there was really no good example of the word adult, and every moment since then.

He could feel the warmth radiating off of Phil's skin, through the thin t-shirt he'd put on when he realized how much hotter inside a concert it was compared to being outside. Dan hadn't paid much attention to the suggestion, and he was now majorly regretting it, but at least he wasn't the guy in the white t-shirt who had sweat stains in every conceivable place on his body and then some.

Phil must have moved closer, because now their chests were brushing as they sang along the song word for word. Phil stumbled over a few of them, he liked the melody more than the words anyway. But Dan seemed undeterred by this, happily led the way when it came to the words, pretending not to notice when Phil confused the bridges or messed up a word all together.

He didn't know who moved closer first, whether they were pushed or moved closer by their own free will but then their noses were brushing and Phil smiled in such a relaxed way, a way that seemed to seem so unfit for their situation. One that didn't quite match the excitement of his eyes. Yet it was all Phil, and that was all that Dan could ask for as he smiled back shyly and someone leaned forward, closing the gap.

Number forty-eight. Kiss your best friend. It doesn't matter what sexuality or gender you are or they are. It doesn't matter if it's a peck or you escalate to tongue. You'll laugh about it later, but it will always make you smile at the memory. 

The kiss wasn't like how it worked out in the movies. There weren't any fireworks, although Dan did feel a spark in his chest though, running like lightning through his veins which mixed so well with the way the music was heating up his chest. Phil's lips were softer than he expected, and he was pretty sure his own were chapped, which would probably have made him more self conscious if he hadn't been sure he tasted something sickeningly sugary on Phil's lips from lunch. He couldn't place the actual taste, but it didn't matter. Why should it? He was kissing Phil. And then, it was like someone had flipped a switch. He was kissing Phil, and he needed to start moving. To make this last in case it never happened again.

He wrapped his hand in Phil's hair, catching the soft black locks between his fingers and doing his best not to tug too hard whilst Phil seemed content to pull him closer by his hips and leave his hands there, his thumbs tracing patterns in the younger male's hipbones- and Dan could feel the heat of it through his shirt. Had his lips not been far more concerned with the fact Phil's tongue was running along his lower of the two they would have curled upward into a smile. Instead he parted them, allowing entrance to the raven haired male, who seemed all too willing to take advantage.

By the time they pulled apart, both breathing unevenly from the lack of hair, Phil's hair was a mess and Dan's face was tinted a slight pink that he was unsure of the origin. He couldn't tell if he had been embarrassed or if it was a way for his body to tell him he needed to breathe and stop spending all his oxygen kissing Phil, who he really wanted to kiss again. And again. He was pretty sure he heard someone wolf whistle nearby (which didn't mean much considering all the noises that were drowned out), but there was really no way to be sure it was meant for the two of them, so Dan pretended it wasn't. It probably was.

Phil smiled.

-

"Alright, what's your name going to be?" Dan asked curiously, humoring his friend from the position sitting across from him on the train.

"Zack Striker." He replied with a bright grin appearing on his face that made Dan laugh, shaking his head at his friend's 'creative imagination' sometimes.

"Why do you want to be called Zack Striker?" Dan replied with a small grin. "That's awful!"

"I think it suits me." Phil replied with a bright grin and yeah, of course Phil would think that. Because apparently Phil was known for making things ore difficult for him. Even his name.

"I'm still going to call you Phil. There's no way I'm going to remember to call you anything else." Dan decided, giving his friend a small grin. It was probably true, too. Phil was always going to be Phil to him. Which was by no means a bad thing, but he couldn't imagine Phil being called Zack.

"Well you're my Dan, so I guess it works out like that." Phil replied in amusement, and Dan raised an eyebrow at the word 'my,' although he didn't verbally deny it. 

Since the kiss, they had been like this, walking the line between friends and something more with each of them toeing over the line occasionally but without much substance. They hadn't talked about it yet. Nor had they talked about the one that had followed after it. It had almost been like that entire night was a secret now, even to the two of them. Yet still, Dan couldn't help but smile at the memory. Every time he thought of Phil standing close enough to touch, close enough to kiss, he had to smile. Because he had kissed Phil. Or Phil had kissed him. That knowledge was seeming to be still debated in his head because he couldn't for the life of him recall who leaned in first. It was like they had never started, they just were.

But that wasn't possible. He gave his friend a small smile as he felt their transportation stop. They were here. Phil stood up a little too quickly and nearly lost his footing in his excitement, which made Dan laugh. "Wow Phil, a whole new town and you're already making yourself out to be a klutz."

Dan grinned as they got off the train and the blinding light hit his face all at once. Only a few people got off, and Dan wondered for a moment exactly what town they had stopped off in. He couldn't remember what the voice overhead of them had declared when they stopped, mostly because he couldn't make out a word of it anyway, so his best guess was some town about a few hours north of his home. He thought over the number in his head. He'd chosen it specifically because he knew Phil must have enjoyed doing it when he was on his list of quests. It was one of the longest on the list, bolded and in very well written text. so he must have had good memories of it. That, and he figured he could do a few more while they were out here anyway, which was good because he was becoming worried about running out of time. It wasn't even just about the memories anymore. Somewhere along the line it had become a mission. To finish these ten things with Phil. So this was the best way to do it, and he was excited to see what he had in store for him this time.

Number twenty-five. Go to a place where no one knows your name. Spend the night or spend the week. Make up a new name, a new backstory. Pretend to be someone else, you'll be surprised what you learn about yourself in a place where no one knows you but you.

"I think we're officially out of range of anyone who you know." Phil declared when he took a look around the small town which probably only had about as many people as Dan's school.

"I think we're out of range of anyone at all." Dan countered with a small smile. Exactly what he'd been looking for. He'd been planning this for two days since he'd announced to Phil, thinking of a million different backstories and a million different personalities he could pretend to be in a town that wouldn't think twice about it. Why would they?

The raven haired male laughed at that, nodding his head in agreement. "Lets see if we can find a hotel room." Phil offered as he looked around the old school styled shops.

Dan laughed at the implications of the words Phil definitely hadn't meant to say. "Wow Phil, we've been here two minutes and you're already trying to find a bed for us. Classy."

Phil blushed deeply when he realized the way the words had sounded, lightly shoving Dan, who stumbled a step before catching himself with a wide grin. "Actually shut up."

"You're the one who wants to find a bed." Dan laughed, completely unphased by his friends attempt to shove him. Mild violence seemed to be a large part of their friendship.

Phil opened his mouth to shoot off some form of retort but he paused when he caught sight of something behind Dan, who turned to figure out what had been the cause of Phil's lack of words (which honestly, probably would have been something along the lines of 'shut up' again because Phil was oh so smooth when it came to sarcastic replies) and realized they'd been walking in front of an old-school style candy shop. Which was definitely a nice sight.

Phil pulled him inside before Dan could even suggest as much, and Phil was suddenly laughing like a child who had been let loose in- well here. But Dan didn't mind because these old school candies were the types of things he remembered melting on his tongue when he was eight years old and the feeling of nostalgia was too much to overcome. They ended up leaving the store with a bag full of candy and bright smiles on their faces. Phil's tongue was blue, and Dan couldn't understand which candy had done that because he was fairly sure the candy his friend had put into his mouth was green- not that Dan had been staring at Phil's mouth or anything, he just happened to notice. Old school candies were weird, but way more delicious without all those health critiques scolding the company over how much sugar their kids were eating. Dan didn't know what about the gleeful expression on Phil's face made him want to kiss him, but it did.

So he did. A quick, light one that was completely different than the concert. He pulled away almost as quickly as he began and he pulled away in time to see that the simple gesture made Phil's eyebrows furrow in confusion as he glanced over to meet Dan's gaze. But he smiled anyway, not seeming anything other than happily confused.

Dan didn't bother to explain, Phil didn't bother to ask.

 

In a town where everyone knew everyone, Dan found that people seemed to notice when strangers entered their midst. They got odd looks, but none were very rude seeming so the pair of boys just smiled back at them, which seemed to be enough for most of them. Knowing that the strangers didn't seem to be unfriendly seemed to be relieving. Dan couldn't help but feel like he was being watched like he was in a zoo. Every step was being scrutinized, every time his hand brushed with Phil's- both by their own omission and because Dan felt like being this close to him was something that he occasionally wanted to remind the other of- someone had seen it. The idea would have panicked him, but he decided that in this backstory, he was confident, so this Dan stood tall and grinned whenever someone noticed him. They didn't know him anyway, what was the problem with them looking at him with Phil?

Dan found his answer in a way that surprised him- a lot. Night had fallen and the two had decided they wanted to see what the town had to do other than munch on candy and watch Buffy on Netflix. They did that anyway. So they traveled their way to the bar, which had been shining brightly with lights to announce where it was in the darkness of the seemingly bare town.

There weren't many people inside, which didn't surprise either of them considering there weren't many people in the town at all and he doubted that all of them wanted to drink. Some of them probably couldn't. Dan opted for a rum and coke, while Phil seemed to decide on something fruity and sugary enough to rot your teeth. Which, he supposed, suited him.

They hadn't even been given the time to finish their first drinks before people were suddenly upon them, flashing smiles and questions faster than the two thought possible. Which, was surprisingly funny. They were being treated like they were superheros or celebrities or something, and Dan laughed when he realized how disappointed they would be if they knew the rather lame truth.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?" One of the girls gushed, giving Phil a smile that spoke of less-than-innocent intentions that he was pretty sure even Phil had picked up on. How could he not have?

"No I-" Phil started but Dan stubbornly cut him off, wrapping an arm around Phil's waist without a second thought.

"He's got a boyfriend." He declared, raising an eyebrow at the girl as he placed a kiss on Phil's cheek. His friend looked more than mildly surprised by the announcement, but he didn't say anything to contradict him.

When the girl left, Phil grinned, moving to face Dan with a raised eyebrow. They were close again, and once more Dan could feel the heat radiating off of Phil's chest. But this was different, they weren't in a crowded concert, they were in a very spacious bar. Yet Phil still stood with as little space as possible between them like he wouldn't have it any other way.

"So I'm your boyfriend now?" He asked in amusement, although despite the good nature sound of the question Dan could almost hear the underlying seriousness of the question.

Dan couldn't bring himself to answer here. Because he didn't know. So instead he pretended not to hear it, smiling at Phil playfully. "Oh shut up! It's part of the backstory." He declared.

Phil didn't look convinced, but Dan hadn't really expected him to. "Mhm, well how did we meet in this backstory? Just so I know for future reference." He asked.

Dan looked thoughtful, caught off guard by the question. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Hell, he hadn't thought at all. After a moment though, he smiled. "At a Muse concert."

"Oh? That sounds fun." Phil decided with a small grin.

"It was." Dan replied with a serious nod, before turning away from Phil and losing contact with the heat. He grabbed his drink, leaning against the counter top of the bar as much as he could without sitting on it. He had the feeling the bartender would yell at him. "So Phil Striker, for the next few days no hitting on girls, you're a committed man." He added teasingly.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

 

Dan decided the next morning that this town was one that was a one trick parlor, as small towns tended to be. They seemed nice and quaint until you realize there's really nothing to do at all, and that seemed oddly like a waste. So, he decided the only logical thing to do was to spice things up the only way he seemed to know how as of recent. Another list item. Hell, at this rate he could finish the list by the time they made it back home. Wouldn't that be getting things done on time? Heck, he was done with procrastinating. Except, not really.

"Phil come on, this was your list idea!"

"Dan this isn't what I had in mind at all, you're going to get yourself hurt!"

"Technically you're the clumsy one. You're more likely to get hurt than me."

Do something stupid. Something crazy and reckless and brave. Laugh in the face of danger. Live. Something you want to do but know you'll get in trouble for. Accept your punishment without complaints, and when your parents leave, smile at the memory. Number forty-eight.

Which was exactly what Dan intended to do. He was currently standing on the edge of a bridge, made of wood and looking like the age had not done it well. He looked down at the glassy water below them with a small smile on his face. He wasn't going to jump, that would be absolutely stupid. Way more stupid than he was planning on. He was just trying to walk across, but the sight of the water wasn't any less pretty with that knowledge, and Dan continued to look at the water as it shone brightly beneath him.

Phil had taken it upon himself to walk further into the bridge, the safer part, to make sure Dan didn't slip. Which he wanted to point out probably wouldn't work with Phil's lack of coordination but didn't want to freak him out even more than he seemed to be so he didn't bring it up. He was half way across anyway and he hadn't so much as slipped, so he thought he was in pretty good shape over this. Which was probably a great example of famous last words but he pushed that thought aside. He so wasn't going to die, that was crazy.

When he slipped, Phil let out one of the most undignified squeaks Dan thought he had ever heard, but the firm grip that was suddenly on the back of his shirt kept him from falling so he decided not to taunt him over it. Man, maybe Phil did have some coordination. It was just buried under mountains of never caring about PE class. Which made sense, how many times were you really going to need to do a pull up in real life? Especially more than once. Who pulls themselves up from falling off a building and decides to do it again? No one. There's literally no reason to have to do a pull up twice. Which his gym teacher hadn't been happy to hear.

"Alright, no. This is over." Phil declared when Dan managed to catch his grip, pulling Dan through the bars back onto safety. The brunet would never admit that he was relieved he did. "That was too stupid."

"I learned from the best." Dan replied with a frown. Maybe he was right though, that was dangerous. Stupidly so, and he really shouldn't have thought it was a good enough idea to try. "This town was too boring, had to liven it up."

"Yeah because accidental suicides are always pretty lively." He countered with a small frown, shaking his head. He sounded like a scolding mother, and the thought of that made Dan laugh.

"That was what I thought." he teased with a small shrug, only then realizing how scared Phil actually seemed to look. It made Dan feel a little guilty, knowing that he had done that to his friend. So he gave him a small smile. "I'm fine, Phil."

"Yeah, I know. But you're not doing that again."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Striker."

Phil laughed, and then the fear seemed to ebb away, which was exactly what Dan had been hoping would happen. He rested his head against Phil's chest for a moment.

"The next one will be less deadly." Dan promised with a soft chuckle.

"Well it better be."

 

"This is my second to last thing, and this is what I chose. You should be disappointed." Dan laughed, shaking his head, although he was smiling the entire time. What was so bad about that? He was supposed to be having a good time with this.

"You said you would do something less deadly, there's not much you can really do in a town where no one knows you." Phil replied, holding out the odd shaped cigarette towards Dan with a small shrug.

"Well this is technically just as deadly, just in smaller doses." Dan declared with a small laugh. He ran his hand through his hair as he accepted the cancer stick, bringing it up to his lips. 

"You've got to light it first, Dan." Phil laughed, leaning closer so he could do so for him. The end turned red when the fire touched it, like what he imagined a dragons breath would look like when it was trying to warm itself up. Wow, he was pretty much a dork. He could even make cigarettes uncool, look out 80's teen movies.

Number three. Smoke a cigarette. Let it burn your throat. Learn to blow smoke rings and watch the smoke fade away. Never touch a cigarette again.

Dan pulled the cigarette from his mouth to answer. "I know, I was trying to get you to come closer." Dan informed him, his voice sounding joking despite the fact he hadn't meant for it to be a joke at all. He liked it when Phil was close to him. It made him feel an odd warmth in his chest, even when he wasn't close enough to be the one radiating it.

Phil smiled, shaking his head. "You know how to do it, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Dan snorted.

"I'm not the most sheltered kid in the world Phil, I've seen people smoke." He replied, bringing it to his lips again and taking a breath. He must have done it wrong somehow (which didn't mean Phil was right...) because he ended up coughing it all out before he really understood what was happening. How was this supposed to make you less nervous if he was too busy worrying about not dying?

Phil laughed, and Dan pouted because him coughing up a lung is really not funny an he was offended Phil thought so. He sighed, shaking his head and giving Phil a small smile. "You're cruel."

"You said you knew what to do." He countered, still smiling.

At that moment, Dan realized two things. The first thing, was that he hated smoking. The second thing, was that he loved Phil. Both realizations dawned on him in the same moment, and it was an odd feeling. He didn't know what brought the larger one on: had it been Phil's smile or the way he laughed, or had it been something Dan had known this entire time but just decided to surface now? He sure had gotten defensive when the girl had asked Phil if he'd been seeing anyone, and most people saved kisses for people they cared about.

It didn't hit him like a train, it came to him softly, and Dan realized that part of the movies were wrong too. Or maybe he was the one who was wrong. Either way, he knew now and there was no going back. He loved Phil Lester. Now if only Phil knew that, then they would be able to get somewhere.

But sitting here, on the floor of a hotel room that bans smoking anyway (apparently this new Dan was also a rebel) he couldn't get the words past his lips. He couldn't ask what they were, and if Dan's love changed anything. Because he couldn't bear to take away the smile from his face. So instead, he kissed him. He knew it wouldn't solve anything, their kisses before hadn't. But the feeling of soft lips pressed against his own (which were less chapped, now that he'd started using the chap stick he could now taste on Phil's lips) was comforting enough. Even if Phil didn't love him, they still had this. Phil seemed to enjoy kissing him enough.

They went home with nine things checked off the list, but now Dan had bigger things to tackle.

-

 

Number fifty was different. Dan had known it was going to be different since the moment he'd chosen it. These others, he'd been doing these for memories. They were stories he would be able to tell to kids in college with fondness and a smile. This wasn't one of those. Number fifty was something he was never going to tell a soul, and he knew it. They both did, really. The knowing look Phil had given him when he shakily informed Phil of what his tenth choice was going to be told him that. It was all he needed to know.

Number fifty; Sit on someone's roof and talk for hours. Drink alcohol from a water bottle. Forget about dinner and tell your origin stories. Let your guard down while the dog barks below. Talk about God. Listen.

Dan could have recited it perfectly with how many times he'd read it over in his head. Even from the beginning of all of this, the idea had caught his attention. It was like something out of a movie or a romance novel. Watching the sun go down from the roof of a house and talking about everything you've ever heard. It was something he found that he had longed for. Really, really longed for. Although he wasn't sure why. He didn't know what about talking was so appealing to him. Maybe it was because it was Phil. Phil Lester, the boy who helped him find some memories. The boy who knew how to make him smile. The boy who he'd kissed at a concert because he wanted to. Because he felt it was right. The boy who he loved desperately and without warning.

So now here they were. The sun still had another half hour before it was supposed to set, but it was already beginning to change the sky into brilliant pinks and oranges that almost made it look like the sky was on fire. They were going to have a front row seat to watching the sun fade into darkness, sitting on the roof of Phil's house because it had been a lot less steep than Dan's and falling off a roof wasn't how he wanted this list to end. He'd gotten all the memories he could have wanted, and if not he still had forty written down that he could give a try. But right now, in this moment, those memories didn't matter. Phil knew about those. This night was supposed to be about telling him things he hadn't told anyone else. Things that he was always afraid to say out loud.

That thought came off much too strong, and Dan took a large gulp from the water bottle he'd brought with him, as the instructions had suggested. Although the other male had been the one to fill it, considering Dan couldn't buy alcohol without his parents killing him. He was eighteen, legal to drink but definitely not in his household. So drinking had been something he pretty much never did, which meant if he got drunk this was going to be a rare treat for the both of them. He hadn't asked Phil what he'd put in it, but now he regretted the choice because that was probably vodka and it burned his throat. He winced a little, and Phil took the water bottle from his hand with a little laugh.

"Careful, don't hurt yourself Dan. I don't need your parents murdering me in my sleep or something." Phil laughed softly, his eyes twinkling even with the slight haze that was beginning to fall over them. Phil had drank half a water bottle of something before they'd come up, because he said that he didn't want to put so little back in the freezer. Dan had to give him credit because he hadn't even flinched at the substance, which had been why Dan thought it was something weaker.

"I didn't know what it was." Dan informed him rather sheepishly in reply, scooting a little closer and reaching out for the substance once more. Phil relented after a few moments, giving it back with a small grin. It wasn't like he'd done anything wrong anyway. No harm done, really. But he did make sure his next drink was a lot more conservative.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Phil asked gently, tilting his head to the side to give Dan a curious look. The brunet smiled, giving a little shrug although his stomach was clenching. He didn't know if this was a good idea anymore. Telling his secrets was never a strong suit of his. 

In his own defense, bearing your heart was pretty hard, and he could see why it wasn't something most people did. It wasn't even just the idea of someone knowing, which was hard enough, but it was also trying to pinpoint exactly what makes you who you are. How was he supposed to know what was important and what wasn't? When he tried to figure out what he should say, he just came up blank. Nothing seemed important enough to share.

"I don't know, really. When it said tell your origin stories, it makes me sound like I became someone cool like Batman." He informed Phil with a small shrug.

Phil laughed and gave Dan a small grin. "But you didn't. You became Dan Howell, tell me how you became you." He replied, and into the silence he added. "I'll go first, if you want."

Dan nodded, thinking that it might make it easier if he knew that he wasn't the only one doing this, and he wasn't even surprised when Phil didn't seem to have as much trouble coming up with the words to say, and the brunet envied him for it. "When I was younger I thought I was part fish because I could swim pretty good." Phil commented with a smile, pointing to a tiny, faded scar above his eye. "I actually used to eat fish food."

Dan laughed, giving Phil a disbelieving look. There was the answer, he guessed. It didn't matter the big things, the little things were just as important as everything else. Exactly like Phil to teach him that without needing to be asked. Dan wondered briefly how so much wisdom could be hidden with grins and stories of childhood injuries. It didn't make sense to him, but he found he was happy to be left in confusion.

"Well I mean, at least you were a kid. Just last year I fell down an escalator whilst trying to run up it and scarred my elbow." He mused, showing off the scar with mild amusement.

"I got my shoe laces stuck in an escalator once, I nearly died." Phil declared with a genuine worried look for a moment, even if he was smiling while he said it. "I had to tear them off my shoes so I wouldn't get sucked into it."

"Only you would manage to get your shoelaces caught in an escalator." He declared with a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Says the one who fell down one. That's pretty much every cartoon fail ever." His raven haired friend countered with a smile so wide it almost looked cartoonish itself.

"We're a couple of klutz's aren't we?" Dan asked with a knowing look. He smiled out at the horizon, feeling an odd sense of peace while sitting out here under the dying sun.

"I'll figure out how to make a living out of it someday." Phil joked, shrugging his shoulders. "Just don't let me be a knife juggler."

Dan laughed, holding out his hand and pointing at his friend with a grin. "That actually reminds me, I once walked past one of those and he sneezed and nearly decapitated me."

"What? No way, I thought you didn't have any good memories to share with people." Phil laughed, shaking his head. "There's one not even I've heard of."

"My near death experiences aren't for the entertainment of drunk college students." Dan said jokingly. Honestly if he thought all the times he'd nearly died were good memories to share with people he wouldn't have needed this list. It'd happened enough times for him to have a list of his own.

A comfortable silence settled amongst them for a while, both content with each others presence as they watched the last remnants of the sun disappear into nothingness. It only left them in darkness for a few moments, though, before the stars began appearing one by one shining down on the two boys sitting on the roof. There was no moon, and for a moment Dan couldn't tell if it was being hidden or if there just wasn't one tonight. In either case, he decided he liked the stars better anyway.

He laid out on the roof, looking up at the stars so far above him. He hadn't done this in too long, he found he almost missed doing things like this. The simple things like watching the stars and trying to find the constellations he'd learned about in his mythology class. He couldn't remember the stories behind most of them, and the ones he did remember were vague and probably wrong in more than one way, but that didn't mean he didn't like to find them anyway.

Dan took another long drink from his water bottle. "I used to think you hung the stars." He murmured gently, his tone more serious than it had the last time he'd spoken. "You were older than me and you still wanted to be nice to me when even kids my own age didn't like me. You were absolutely amazing." He confessed with a sheepish smile.

Phil laughed softly, nudging Dan lightly with his shoulder. Dan hadn't realized he'd also laid down. "You were a really excited kid, how was I supposed to be mean to you? You looked at everything like it was beautiful."

"I think that was only around you." Dan confessed, tearing his gaze away from Phil to give him a small smile. "I mean, I hate a lot of things. But everything you liked had to be pretty good."

Phil smiled. "I'm happy to have been the one to teach you that Pokemon was cool then." He declared, resting an arm behind his head to look at the brunet better. "I may have clouded your judgement, but it's worth it."

Dan laughed, nodding his head. "Oh no, Pokemon was definitely always cool. With or without you." He declared. "But I definitely pretended to be worse at that game than I was so you would help me."

"Is that like how I said I was letting you win at Mario Kart because I was trying to save face?" He asked in amusement, raising an eyebrow at him as he waited for a response.

"No no, you actually just suck at Mario." 

"150 CC's is too fast, Dan!"

"Don't blame the speed for your failures, Phil."

Phil pouted for a moment, but Dan knew he was kidding. They both were. It was familiar, nostalgic and new at the same time. He was happy that he came to Phil all those weeks ago in need of help. He was happy that the University student hadn't just blown him off as some high school kid that was whining about his problems. Not that he ever thought Phil would see anyone in need of help as whiny. He was too good of a person for something like that. Otherwise he would have already told Dan to hit the road when he was still that dorky barely teenager who followed him around like he was a god.

"Anything else you want to confess?" Phil asked, tilting his head at he looked at his friend with curious eyes.

"Just that I think I might love you." Dan murmured in reply, giving him a small smile.

"...Is this part of your background story again?"

Dan smiled, shaking his head at him. He could feel his pulse racing but he had to do it now. Besides, Phil didn't seem too upset with the announcement. "No. I love you, Phil Lester."

Phil smiled widely at that and it was apparently all he needed to head before he was leaning forward and then they were kissing once again, this one filled with love and everything Dan had been hoping for since they got back from the hotel smelling like ash and content. He cupped Dan's cheek and he moved closer, wrapping his arm around the older male's neck and resting it there.

"I love you too Dan." He murmured gently against his lips. "But I think we should get off the roof before we both end up falling off."

Dan nodded in agreement. "Just, hold on a second." he told his friend, pulling the note sheet out of his pocket.

Next to the number fifty, he put a star. He couldn't wait to see what happened at University now.


End file.
